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“She’s perfect! So beautiful! So sweet! So smart!” Domyoji sighed as he stared upwards in rapt attention, lost in the memory woman they had just interrogated. “Didn’t you see her, Fushimi? She was perfect!”
“…She was just a woman.” Fushimi didn’t understand the appeal.
“Just a woman! She was amazing! I hope I get to meet here again soon,” Domyoji started out shocked, but still ended on a wistful note.
“If you had that much passion for your reports, you’d have more time to date,” Fushimi offered.
“You’re heartless! I’ve bet you’ve never been in love like this before!” He stopped walking and challenged Fushimi. Hidaka quickly stepped up and pulled him away.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, Fushimi, we’ll just keep him back here with us."
“I was in love once, actually. Letting him go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do,” Fushimi muttered looking away, more to himself than to the men he was with. He seemed to realize he said it aloud after a minute of silence, he looked back to see the three men gaping at him. “Tch, let’s go. We have to get back to headquarters, we’re too close to HOMRA’s territory.” He heard a skateboard drawing closer and wanted to get away before the rider tried to engage him.
Yata had been on his way to the bar when he saw the group of blues walking down the street like they owned it. If Fushimi had been alone, he would have approached, he told himself, but any group of blues had to be up to something suspicious, so he waited and watched. They wouldn’t get away with anything in HOMRA’s territory while he was there to stop it! He could hear some guy annoying Fushimi, go random blue guy. Even though he couldn’t make out exactly what the other guys were saying, Fushimi’s voice was always easy for him to pick out. Must be all those years of friendship before that Fushimi had left him. He scowled.
As soon as he heard Fushimi mention being in love, he was off on his skateboard and rushing after them.
There was no way he had heard that right. Fushimi, in love? And with a guy? When had that happened? After he left HOMRA? It couldn’t be one of the blues or he wouldn’t have had to tell them.
Wait, where’d the blues go? He cursed, he must have been too distracted by his thoughts. He was close to the bar at least, he could go calm down.
He entered the bar in a huff. In the past when he and Fushimi passed that closely to each other, there was some sort of fight or altercation. Ever since the whole thing with the greens, Fushimi seemed a bit off. It’s not like Yata missed the constant fights. Or the creepy way he used to say his first name. Fushimi just used to always find him when he was alone before. Lately they only seemed to cross paths when working. There was even at least one time where Yata could have sworn he saw someone that looked exactly like Fushimi cross the street and disappear after their eyes met. But it couldn’t be, Fushimi never ignored him like that. Whatever. It wasn’t his problem. It was a lack of a problem actually. He threw himself down on the couch with a dissatisfied grunt.
“Something bothering you, Yata?” Kusanagi looked up from the glass he was cleaning.
“No,” he snapped back, “nothing important.”
“I bet it’s Fushimi,” Kamamoto offered.
“It’s always Fushimi,” someone in the back of the bar muttered.
“He hasn’t done anything lately though,” added a thoughtful voice.
“Did you know Fushimi had a boyfriend!?” Yata blurted out, ignoring what the others were saying.
“Eh? Fushimi? No way.”
“I just overheard him talking with some blues and he said he was in love. And letting the guy go was the hardest thing he’s done. What about all of our fights? He never walked away from those unscathed. What about all the battles between our clans? What about that stupid suicide mission his crazy king sent him on? He almost died! What about leaving me-I mean HOMRA?” His voice rose as he ranted, and his voice cracked embarrassingly as he tripped through the last question. “Fuck this, I’m going out,” he added at a more normal volume.
He stomped out of the bar and immediately flew off on his skateboard. He just needed to not think. He let himself get lost in the motion, the movement of his feet, the feeling of the wind pushing against him. He cursed when he whipped around a corner to see the Scepter 4 headquarters looming ahead of him. He was about to turn around when he saw Fushimi, alone, on the opposite side of the empty street, and completely ignoring Yata.
“Oi! Bastard!” Yata yelled out as he rode over and jumped to knock Fushimi over with his skateboard. As the board clattered to the side, he grabbed the front of Fushimi’s coat, pulled him back to a sitting position, and kneeled down next to him. Their faces were almost level in this position and Yata yelled right at him, “Why wasn’t it me? Why wasn’t leaving me the hardest thing you’ve ever done?!” He managed to get the questions out before his throat closed up.
“Yata? Are you crying?” Fushimi hesitantly reached a hand towards Yata’s face only to almost be knocked to the ground for the second time that night as Yata forcefully buried his face in Fushimi’s chest and threw his arms around him. The sobs were still audible, albeit a bit muffled. Fushimi winced as he felt the tears start soaking through his shirt, but he awkwardly patted Yata’s head with his still outstretched hand. When Yata didn’t attack him, he ran the hand through Yata’s hair and rubbed his back as he wrapped his other arm around the smaller man.
“Shh, shhh, it’s okay, it’s alright,” he whispered. He thought those were the appropriate words for this scenario. He wasn’t used to comforting people. Not that he would have tried for anyone other than Yata. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Yata’s sobs reduced to sniffles and he started to lean away from Fushimi’s chest, his cheeks dusted pink.
Fushimi pulled him back in, leaned his head down next to Yata’s ear, “You always were an idiot. It was you.” Then Yata did knock him over a second time. Fushimi found he didn’t mind.
Yata made it to the bar later than usual the next day. It was already full of his friends and clansmen. He made room for himself on the couch and settled in among the guys.
“Any updates on Fushimi’s boyfriend?” Kamamoto teased Yata. The group laughed, but Yata blushed a dark red and took a deep breath.
“Ummm, well,” Yata looked down and scratched the back of his neck, unwilling to look any of them in the eyes, “it might sorta be…ummm…me?” He tilted his head to check the reactions. He was not expecting the good natured smiles, or the chorus of ‘Finally’ and ‘Took you guys long enough’ that echoed throughout the bar.
“Eh?! Was I the last to know?!”